Destiny
by Cassie5squared
Summary: Frank Longbottom is about to be Sorted, carrying the hopes and expectations for his entire family… and despite his determination, he can't help harbouring a few worries about where he's going to end up.


Frank had been acting confident the whole journey. With other nervous first years in his compartment, many of whom knew less than he did, he didn't want to make things any worse. It had seemed to help, too; some of the Muggle-borns, in particular, had relaxed a lot on being told they weren't as much of a rarity as they'd thought.

Of course, there'd been a long conversation about houses, in which one rather pale-looking girl had admitted she didn't think any of them would be suitable for her. Frank had done his best to reassure her that the Sorting would find a place where she fitted, even if she didn't feel like it worked at the start. He wasn't entirely sure she was convinced, but he'd made a few silly jokes until she giggled and forgot about it.

In fact he'd spent a good portion of the trip goofing around to make the others laugh. It was a lesson he'd learned from his uncle Algie - if everyone was laughing, there was no time to worry about things.

But now, as he climbed the steps up from the harbour, he felt the nerves beginning to settle in again. Of course he knew where he was supposed to be Sorted, he'd known that since he was old enough to even think about the matter, but… there was still a nagging uncertainty about _what if he was wrong_? If he wasn't meant to be there… what was he going to tell everyone at home?

The nagging feeling only grew stronger when he and the other first-years were herded into the side chamber to wait. Several of the others began to whisper and fidget about where they might end up. Frank was about to step in and reassure them when another boy - pale-haired, thin-faced, and wearing an arrogant expression - spoke up.

"Well, I know _I'm_ going to be in Slytherin," he sneered, eyeing several of the Muggle-borns with contempt. "Lucky for me, really - it's not like they'd let people like _you_ in. You might get Hufflepuff, I suppose, if they're desperate…"

"Right, 'cause they should be that bloody lucky to be in Slytherin wi' you," Frank retorted loudly. He was pretty sure he recognised the other boy. "Merlin's arse, I reckon I'd rather get kicked out, meself."

The boy rounded on him at once. "Who asked _you_? Let me guess, you're hoping to be a big brawny Gryffindor?"

Frank raised his chin, staring the blond boy down with a dangerous expression. "Nobody asked you to start flappin' yer gob in the first place, mouthy."

It wasn't difficult to see what might have happened - both of them were just about ready for a clash - but the door creaked open at that moment and everyone immediately tried to look like they hadn't been intensely fascinated by the brewing tension. Professor McGonagall looked the little group over and frowned. "We're ready for you now. Follow me."

The blond boy elbowed his way to the front of the line, shooting Frank a smug look as he stepped heavily on the foot of a Muggle-born boy, and strutted into the Great Hall like he owned the place.

Frank pushed his annoyance aside as delight took over. He'd heard descriptions of the Great Hall, but the clear night sky that glowed overhead put all second-hand knowledge to shame. It was gorgeous! And bigger by far than he'd imagined, with so many older students sitting at the tables, and the whole huge row of teachers right at the far end.

Suddenly he didn't feel very important any more - not like when he'd got on the train, with all his family on the platform waiting to wave him off, because he was the first Longbottom to go to Hogwarts since his uncle Algie had left. Now he was just one of the babies of the school, and he'd have to earn his reputation here.

The Sorting began with a truly daft-sounding song from the Sorting Hat about the four houses and what each of them looked for in their students. Privately, Frank figured it could have summarised Slytherin as _inbred arrogant tossers this way_ , but he decided not to comment.

Then McGonagall began calling people up to be Sorted. He watched those who went ahead of him with interest. The Carrow twins, Alecto and Amycus, looked nothing alike, but they wore identical and slightly unnerving grins when both of them joined the Slytherin table. A small, fair girl with a bright smile identified as "Fortescue, Alice," took some time to place before going to Gryffindor. A dark Asian boy with lank black hair, whose name was given as "Kulkarni, Nadeem," ended up in Ravenclaw.

And then it was Frank's turn. He swallowed and made his way out of the group, putting on as calm and confident a face as he could muster and slipping one hand into his pocket to rest briefly on the handle of his wand. It had to have picked him for a reason…

He settled onto the stool with a brief smile at the kids still waiting their turn, saw McGonagall approach with the Sorting Hat, and braced as it lowered…

" **GRYFFINDOR**!"

He looked up, a bit startled, as the Hat was lifted away. It had barely touched his head!

The table beneath the red and gold banners was cheering, so, still bewildered but breaking into a slow grin, Frank made his way over and found a space next to Alice Fortescue. She flashed her pretty smile at him as the room settled down again for "Malfoy, Lucius!"

Frank had to bite his lip to keep from snickering at the name, even as the thin blond boy all but strutted up to be Sorted. It was no surprise when Lucius was speedily placed in Slytherin - as far away from the Gryffindor table as possible, which Frank quietly approved of. He'd never heard anyone at home having anything good to say about the Malfoys.

He couldn't help wondering, as the last few people were Sorted, why it had been so quick for him. He'd expected it to take a little while to think it over and decide where he fitted best… he'd been right all along, though, and he shouldn't have worried. Just because he'd been told not to jump to conclusions and not everyone ended up where they expected didn't mean he couldn't have his own opinions.

It wasn't important now, anyway. He _was_ a Gryffindor, and he'd show everyone what that meant. With a quiet little smile, he settled down and waited for the feast to begin.


End file.
